


A Troop of Echoes

by Tumbleweed_run



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Smut, i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-02 07:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tumbleweed_run/pseuds/Tumbleweed_run
Summary: A hunt in their new life gives Hannibal and Will a little more that they bargained for.***AKA the kidfic no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "The Haunted Palace" by Edgar Allan Poe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy a kidfic no one asked for. I warned you this was coming... more or less.   
> Don't worry still plenty of sin for the sinbin.

“Please sign in, and we’ll be- Oh! Mr. Walker.”

Will grinned down at the receptionist, a young woman named Stephanie who had been deeply disappointed when she learned Dr. Walker was married. “Afternoon, I’m just here to drop Milos off some lunch,” he explained holding up the canvas bag full of leftovers.

Stephanie leaned forward on her desk and in a conspiratorial tone said, “You have good timing then he’s just gone on lunch.”

Will chuckled, “I have a sixth sense when it comes to Milos’ stomach,” he teased.

“Go on back you know where it is,” Stephanie chirped with a tilt of her head towards the double doors that separated the A&E from the front.

As he disappeared behind the door no one stopped him save to exchange greetings, all of the nurses and doctors knew Will and never batted an eyelash at his frequent visits. They only oohed and aahed over how sweet he was for making sure his husband ate. Will wondered how they’d feel if they knew what exactly the ‘beef stew’ was made of.

The thing about being dead was that no one was looking for them. People had forgotten Hannibal the Cannibal and Will Graham within weeks after the FBI announced them dead, it had made leaving the country almost too easy. Somehow Dolarhyde’s camera had been moved so as to capture their battle with him and their subsequent plunge into the ocean. Will wasn’t sure if Hannibal had been planning to review the footage after the dragon was dead (Hannibal had only growled when Will had asked if he intended a snuff film) but he was thankful he had repositioned it. A week after the fight, while Will and Hannibal recuperated in a cabin in West Virginia, the FBI had declared them dead. 

Now, fourteen months after their battle with the dragon, he and Hannibal had found themselves in London as Milos and Charles Walker. Milos worked three days a week as a doctor at the A&E while Charles remained at home. A writer Hannibal had told all of his new pretentious friends, but it was trophy husband that they heard. Will had only rolled his eyes and pretended not to know what they were all thinking. No one seemed to notice the discrepancy between Hannibal’s wages and their lifestyle.

Will came into the hospital once or twice a week bringing leftovers and seeking company. Their home was stunning, and Hannibal had conceded, and Will had gotten two dogs but sometimes Will still got lonely during the day. For four months while recovering all they had had was one another, reacclimating to the real world was tedious and Will hated it but he had to admit it was necessary.  Zoey and Brutus had been Hannibal’s method of curing Will’s loneliness the one, and only time he’d brought it up, and Will wasn’t about to tell him they weren’t working.

Will pushed open the door to the break room and found himself face with Hannibal’s back, he appeared to be looking over something on the iPad held in his hand.

“Stress is supposed to hinder digestion,” he quipped placing the bag down next to Hannibal’s elbow, “or so I’ve been told.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Hannibal’s mouth, but he didn’t look up. “I’m not stressed, merely reviewing a few charts.”

Will smiled and leaned down the exact moment Hannibal tilted his head up. Their lips brushed in a fond, familiar gesture that was befitting of their covering of having been married for five years.

“No lunch?” He asked eyeing the otherwise blank tabletop in front of Hannibal.

Hannibal shook his head and turned off the tablet. “No, I knew you’d be bringing some.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Oh dear, have I become predictable?”

“Only in the most delightful ways.” Hannibal was pulling out the food from the bag and opening the containers.

Despite the fact that it was a common break room there was a knock on the door before it opened a crack. Will resolutely did not flush. One time, one time, a nurse had walked in on them making out like teenagers and now whenever anyone wanted to speak with Hannibal while Will was around they tread lightly.

“Doctor Walker?” The woman stuck her head inside checking before stepping inside entirely. “I know you’re at lunch, but we could use some… assistance, please.”

Hannibal put down his spoon almost immediately. “What can I help you with Doctor Lowry?”

Doctor Lowry glanced at Will before carefully saying, “we could use your powers of persuasion.”

At that Will nearly choked on the roll he was eating, and it devolved into a coughing fit, Hannibal eyed him with an amused look while Lowry ignored him.

“Just a few minutes of your time, please?” She asked looking genuinely upset.

Hannibal, of course, couldn’t resist a moment in the spotlight regardless of how small the light was and rose out of his seat. “I’m sorry to cut out lunch short, Charles, but it appears I’m needed.”

Will nodded. “That’s alright, I’ll see you at home.” Hannibal swooped down for a kiss before departing with the other doctor.

Will took a more roundabout path from the break room than was strictly necessary. As he turned down a hall leading back towards the door he found Hannibal and Doctor Lowry at the other end speaking to a woman. The woman was a full foot shorter than Hannibal but didn’t appear to notice as she was speaking to him in a violent way. She had one boney finger up perilously close to Hannibal’s chest, jabbing whenever she thought a point needed making. Will cringed and wondered how much of Hannibal’s brain was urging him just to snap her neck and be done with it.

Just as he was about to move on Lowry shifted uncomfortably and revealed the patient in the room they were all standing in front of. It was a little girl slight and fair with an arm in a sling. Even from as far away as he was Will could see there were other bruises of varying shades dotting her face and seemingly uninjured arm. The girl looked up suddenly and trapped Will in her gaze.

He could feel everything with a sickening clarity he thought long passed. The girl was terrified in a gut-wrenching sort of way. The yelling made her nervous but it was also familiar, and she was pleased it wasn’t aimed at her for once but felt guilty for thinking that. She wanted to leave the hospital and its unfamiliar environment, but in equal measure, she wanted to stay because here she was certain no one would hurt her but going home… well, that way lies pain.

When Will finally managed to break away he discovered he was sweating and trembling.  Hannibal chose that exact moment to look away from the woman, and he raised an eyebrow upon seeing Will standing there in the middle of the hall. Will raised a hand and waved him off before turning and fleeing from the hospital.

***

Will was lying on the living room floor of their house surrounded by the dogs when Hannibal got home. That had been the first time he’d empathized with someone so completely since coming to London, even six hours later he could still feel the fear running through his veins. When he’d gotten home he tried to ignore the feelings running through him until it became so unbearable he’d just crawled onto the floor with the dogs. He hadn’t moved in two hours.

Hannibal merely looked down at him and sighed as he carefully stepped over Will and the dogs. Will wondered if he was disgusted with the fact that he’d been so completely brought down by the feelings of a child he didn’t even speak to.

But that thought didn’t have time to fully gestate before Hannibal was on the floor with him, gathering Will up against his chest.

“What did you feel?” A soft hand brushed through Will’s hair.

Will leaned into the touch. “Embarrassment, guilt, but mostly complete and utter fear.”

Hannibal’s lips pressed to the top of Will’s head.

“Who was she?” Will asked softly, one hand coming up to grab Hannibal’s arm.

“Will.” Hannibal sighed softly into his hair. It was a warning and a request all rolled into the single syllable of his name. It asked, please don’t do this to yourself.

Will pinched his thigh in retaliation. “Don’t go pretending you actually have a code of ethics Doctor Lecter.” He could feel Hannibal’s smile.

“Perhaps Doctor Walker has ethics?” Hannibal suggested as he maneuvered Will so he could put his chin on his shoulder.

Will chuckled but didn’t allow Hannibal to redirect him as he was planning. “Please?”

“If we must,” Hannibal said, “Thomasine Wilson, age three, brought in after fracturing her arm at a park. The woman,” the word was said with such loathing Will knew it had taken everything Hannibal had not to murder her in plain sight of others, “was her mother.”

“She’s abusive.” It was the conclusion Will had come to upon breaking contact with Thomasine.

Hannibal nodded as well as he could with his chin still tucked into Will’s shoulder. “This fall might have been an honest accident but the child had other signs of abuse and a history. Doctor Lowry wanted to do other tests but the mother refused. I’ve been known to convince a recalcitrant patient or two,” there was a poke between two of Will’s ribs and he retaliated with another pinch to the thigh, “so she asked if I could speak to the mother.”

“Did you? Convince her I mean?”

Hannibal shook his head. “We made our calls to child services, though.”

“It won’t matter.” Will said darkly as he pushed away from Hannibal and stood. “It never does.”

Will didn’t have to look down to know Hannibal regarded him curiously; he could feel the look on his neck.

“Let’s not dwell, Will.” Hannibal stood and brushed the dog hair from his pants.

Hannibal managed to wait until after dinner while they were both in the kitchen, Will perched on a stool spinning his phone idly while Hannibal dried their wine glasses. “What are your experiences with child services?”

Will sighed and dropped his head onto the counter, it landed a bit harder than he intended but he didn’t let that on.

“I only ask because you seem to have strong opinions,” Hannibal said carefully.

“That’s not why you ask, that’s your excuse to ask.” Will corrected, as he spoke his breath fogged up the granite counter top.

The drying towel whacked down not far from his head as Hannibal placed it down, the displaced air ruffling at his curls. “I admit I am curious about your involvements with child services, were they personal or professional?”

“Are your curiosities personal or professional?” Will challenged raising his head, he found himself looking directly into Hannibal’s dark eyes.

Another small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “My curiosity about you has always been personal, Will.”

“Both,” was Will’s only answer as he tore his eyes away.

Hannibal hummed in acknowledgment. “I see, no one saved you and then when you tried to save others there was no help forthcoming.”

“What exactly do you think I needed to be saved from?” Will hated the way his voice betrayed him, rough and angry at Hannibal’s prying questions. More Annoyed at himself for bringing them on.

“Of that, I’m not certain, you’ve never been particularly forthcoming about your past,” Hannibal admitted fondly giving no recognition to the tone of Will’s voice.

“Just as there are for you there are places in my mind I care not to go.” Will warned.

Hannibal smiled fully now, a terrible thing, “You’ve opened those very doors in my mind while not allowing me the same access to yours.”

Will pushed away from the counter suddenly, his stool scraping loudly against the tile flooring a noise he knew bore into Hannibal violently. “You’ve accessed other forbidden doors,” he glanced pointedly at the refrigerator, “Hannibal, leave these closed.”

Hannibal paused for a moment seeming to weigh the request against his own desires.

“Please,” Will said in a softer tone one dangerously near begging.

Hannibal seemed content to let the issue lie and turned back around to finish drying the glasses.

Will, exhausted both physically and emotionally, slunk up the stairs for the shower. It was only ten minutes before Hannibal appeared behind him in the shower. Taking the cloth from Will’s hand he gently began washing him. On any other day Will still would have protested the over cautious handling but this evening he was too tired. So instead he leaned into the older man and allowed himself to be cleaned like a child.

“Would you feel better if she were dead?” Hannibal asked softly as he was lathering Will’s hair.

Will nodded, “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry ch2 for Versace Blue Jeans is on the way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan (hopefully) to fall into a schedule of updating this on Tuesdays and Versace Blue Jeans on Thursdays. My goal is to stay a chapter or two ahead of what I post.

A week later Hannibal woke Will as he usually did in the mornings. There was no digital clock in their bedroom. Only a small analog alarm clock Will was positive had never actually rang. Hannibal seemed to rise naturally at six, and while he never insisted that Will get up with him, Will had requested to be woken. He felt lazier than usual if he slept in.

6:15 every morning Hannibal would wake Will with a gentle shake to his shoulder as he placed a cup of coffee on Will’s night stand. In the five minutes it took Will to convince himself to leave the comfort of their frankly ridiculous bed Hannibal had disappeared off to the bathroom.

Since moving to London Will had taken up running in the mornings. It was more for something physical to do than because he had any real interest in its health benefits, he needed something to do to burn off energy between their other activities. Hannibal still swam almost every evening at a health club not too far from their house, on days he worked he stopped by before arriving home, but on his days off he often asked Will to accompany him. Will came solely for the view and sat at the end of whichever lane Hannibal used with only his legs in the water.

Zoey, who seemed to be almost entirely a German Shorthaired Pointer, came with every morning and from the moment Will’s feet hit the floor she spun in circles by the front door. She was a fantastic running partner and never allowed herself to be distracted by other animals or smells on their runs. Brutus, on the other hand, was an older mutt who eyed their enthusiastic comings and goings with disdain, so he stayed home.

When they got home in the mornings Hannibal was always dressed for the day and finished preparing breakfast while Will showered. Brutus was always found loitering about the edges of the kitchen when Will came down, and he had his suspicions that Hannibal was giving scraps out.

This morning there was a piece of paper in front of Will’s seat at the table with an address on it. He didn’t have to ask, they’d done this enough times since moving he knew exactly what it was.

“I was asked to cover a shift for another doctor today,” Hannibal said between bites of his omelet.

Will pocketed the paper as he rolled his eyes. “Just a few days a week, just so people don’t grow suspicious,” he mocked. It had been what Hannibal had said when he’d come home with the job in the first place.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow over his coffee cup. “I’m only trying to be kind, Will.”

Will snorted. “No, you just enjoy that they all see you as a hero.”

“And here I thought I was the devil,” Hannibal as he took his plate to the sink.

Will tried not to grin at Hannibal but instead shrugged. “Even the devil needs his due.”

Hannibal chuckled softly and pressed a kiss into Will’s hair as he came around the table. “You’ve run out of body wash.”

“Yes, thank you, Copper.” Will groused, secretly enjoying Hannibal’s confused look, even as he tilted his head back for a proper kiss. “I’m sorry for touching your precious soap.”

“I don’t mind,” Hannibal said pressing a kiss to Will’s lips. Will’s hand snuck around to hold his neck and keep him there.

Once they broke free of each other Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “Copper?”

“The Fox and the Hound?”

There was no light of recognition on Hannibal’s face.

“Oh, what a sad and lonely life you’ve lived,” Will lamented with mock sadness.

***

She wasn’t a difficult woman to find Will realized later that morning as he strolled through the neighborhood where the address resided. He’d barely seen her at the hospital, he’d been too focused on the little girl, but recognized her instantly. Despite it being 11:20 in the morning she was sitting out front of the building smoking with a group of other people, they were all shouting over one another, and Will would have put money on the fact that some of them were high. He wasn’t sure if it was more upsetting or comforting that the girl was nowhere to be seen.

He kept his head down and continued along the street seemingly minding his own business. The point wasn’t to be seen but rather to see.

In the nine months they’d been in London they’d hunted six times, this would be lucky number seven. They weren’t hunting in London often, their lifestyle and Europe’s easy mobility lead them away from London mostly. Each person had been chosen with care, Hannibal was curbing himself to appeal to Will’s lingering conscience which Will appreciated. He’d tried to consider if he could kill the way Hannibal had in Baltimore, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. They needed a reason to die, outside of cutting them off in traffic.

Will had taken up the task of the hunter, spending his free time learning their victims’ routines and schedules. He memorized them over time and reported to Hannibal. There was no physical evidence left behind that way, the scraps of papers which held initial information such as workplaces or homes were destroyed promptly.

They always killed together. Will was confident that killing without their partner was the worst sort of infidelity that could happen in their marriage. Not that either of them would take lightly to any other version of infidelity. The single time Will had acted as lure Hannibal had taken torture to a new level, beyond anything the Chesapeake Ripper had done. It was mutually decided after that that if it were possible they would find other methods of luring victims.

They couldn’t afford to prepare Hannibal’s usual tableaus, being free was more important than his artistry. Instead, they used as much as they could, their freezer was overflowing with meat and organs that were certainly not what had been marked on the package. Will could take the cannibalism or leave it, that wasn’t his pathology (Hannibal was indignant every time Will had pointed out that it was, in fact, a pathology) but eating them was better than leaving behind evidence. The only time human meat had given him pause was while preparing the dogs’ food, though eventually, he had decided that if it was cooked and mixed with other ingredients that they probably wouldn’t turn into man-eating beasts.

***

During the second week of watching the woman Will realized she seemed to have a never-ending stream of men in and out. It was a sick feeling of realization that she was prostituting herself likely while her daughter was present in the apartment. That was the moment he decided the mother needed to be removed sooner rather than later.

There had been a case he’d worked in homicide, the murder of a six-year-old. Very little detective work had been needed. The murderer had been a client of the child’s mother who had more varied interests than most of her clients. He’d sexually assaulted the girl, and then in fear that she’d tell her mother he strangled her. It wasn’t an original tale by any means and Will vehemently hoped no one had taken an interest in Thomasine that way.

“I think it should be tomorrow,” Will suggested as they lay in bed the night after his epiphany.

“Is there a reason for this urgency?” Hannibal had asked in an uninterested voice as he turned the page of his book. The book was in German, and Will had zero idea of what it was about.

“She’s a prostitute, doing business from her house.” Will explained balling the comforter up in his hands. “One of these days one of her Johns is going to take an interest in the girl and hurt her, it’ll happen if it hasn’t already happened already.”

“The idea bothers you more than the existing abuse does,” Hannibal observed still seemingly interested in only his book.

Will huffed, “Don’t pretend it doesn’t bother you too, we both know it does.” He was silent for a moment but knew Hannibal wanted confirmation of Will’s hierarchy of sins he spoke, “Child abuse and child abusers bother me, but yes pedophilia bothers me more. They deserve a special place in hell, preferably one where they’re castrated with a rusty file and then strangled with their own testicles.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at his description. “I wonder, darling, what your inferno would look like.”

“Dante’s would pale in comparison,” Will promised darkly.

Hannibal finally laid down the book, perhaps because of the perceived slight to his idol, and glanced at Will. “And what will our punishment be, dear Will?”

“Separation,” Will answered without hesitation, he’d given lengthy consideration to that question already.

Hannibal’s face softened as he seemed absurdly pleased with Will’s answer, he turned and leaned over him. “Tomorrow night then.”

Before Will closed the small gap between their lips, he had one more question. “What is your plan for the girl?”

One of Hannibal’s hands had come up and began stroking through Will’s curls. “We’ll go late when she should be asleep. I can sedate her safely so she won’t wake until we’re gone. Then the following morning someone will place an urgent call that there is a child left unattended.”

Even though they’d never taken someone who lived with anyone else from their house the plan seemed coherent enough for Will. He nodded in understanding and leaned up to finally capture Hannibal’s lips.

***

The next morning Will finds himself unexpectedly face down on the stairs.

He’d come in from his jog and had barely let Zoey off the lead when he’d be thrown forward into the stairwell. He’d have immediately fought back if two things hadn’t immediately happened. The first was that as quickly as Zoey assumed a hostile posture she backed down with a simple ‘tsk’ from his assailant and the second was the scent of a freshly showered Hannibal filled his nose.  Will just turned his head to rest his cheek on the cool wooden stairs, his hands were pinned behind his back.

Zoey’s lead was liberated from his hands and was expertly looped around his wrist. He couldn’t resist the experimental tug at his new restraints. It was secure, but nothing Will couldn’t get out of he’d escaped handcuffs before, but Hannibal didn’t want him to escape the bindings so he didn’t.

Hannibal’s crimes may not have been sexual in nature or motivation but their sex life was never more daring as it was the day just before a murder. It was like Hannibal’s body knew what was coming and his adrenalin kicked in preemptively. Will would be lying if he hadn’t come to expect, to enjoy, this.

Sex had come easier to them than any conversation ever did. There was no double talk or dancing around issues in sex and it was a blessed reprieve from every other aspect of their lives. Hannibal was a generous lover finding art in it as he did in anything else, he’d asked explicit permission before even attempting any of their more carnal acts. Will had been amused at the fact that Hannibal who had no qualms about drugging and manipulating people required complete and informed consent before he did anything in bed.

It made a certain kind of sense though.

Will’s jogging shorts were abruptly pulled down, he let out a startled noise and lifted his head from the stair. “Hannibal, I just finish-” his protests were cut off when a hand pushed his head back down onto the step.

“I know what I want, Will.” Hannibal rumbled from behind him. Their only contact was the hand on the back of Will’s neck but he could feel him, his presence behind him pushing into Will’s skin. “Will you let me have it?” The question was punctuated by a sharp jerk of the leash wound around his wrists.

Will couldn’t, wouldn’t, suppress the small whimper that escaped his throat. “Yes,” He hissed.

The hand moved from the back of his neck and trailed feather light down his spine. Will arched into the touch trying to turn it into something more substantial but Hannibal kept it teasing. It stopped only for a moment to trace the leash where it dug into Will’s wrists, he would end up with rope burns if he pulled at it too much. Then it continued on until it came to a rest, fingertips trailing lightly just at the base of his spine.

Will had expectations where this would go but they were quickly wiped from his brain when suddenly both of Hannibal’s hands were on him, spreading him. A tongue followed suit pressing flat against his hole. His spine cave and he nearly collapsed onto the steps, his head bumped into the stair above him. The sound Will made was a cross between a squeak and a cry, a noise he would deny he was capable of making.

His cock was trapped between his hips and the edge of a stair a partial blessing and curse as Hannibal’s tongue began to work against him.

He could feel the rest of Zoey’s lead wrapped around one of Hannibal’s hands on his ass. Every time he tried to squirm away it was yanked until his shoulders were pushed to their limit the ache teetering on the precipice of pain. Will’s face burned as he realized Hannibal quite literally had him on a leash. It was embarrassing and exhilarating, he couldn’t decide which feeling won the battle.

Hannibal had worked his tongue inside of him and Will had unknowingly began to whimper at its every thrust.

There was a click somewhere behind him and the small portion of his brain that wasn’t nearing incoherency wondered how long Hannibal had lain in wait with a bottle of lube in his pocket. That tiny section of brain stuttered offline when Hannibal’s tongue was replaced by a finger working into Will’s now pliant entrance. Even when he’d worked up to two fingers Hannibal avoided his prostate skirting it carefully and deliberately. Will whined and tried to wiggle his hips into a better position but Hannibal avoided him expertly.

“Please.” He whimpered.

There was a rumbled, more felt than heard, of laughter. “Please what?”

Will could only repeat the word as he once more tried to reposition his hips.

A single finger curled and brushed up against his prostate but it was enough to draw a strangled cry from Will’s lips. “This?” Hannibal asked and then straightened his fingers away from the bundle of nerves.

“Yes.” Will managed and when he tried to wiggle the leash again was yanked roughly drawing his shoulders back painfully.

“Use your words, darling.” The pet name was in sharp contrast to the ache in his shoulders.

“My prostate, Hannibal, please.” Will cried out finally having strung the words together in semi coherency.

The hold on the leash loosened abruptly and Will barely managed to lift his head when he went crashing back down onto the step. He didn’t have time to dwell on the pain as Hannibal added a third finger which began brushing against his prostate with every pass. Will was babbling, begging, and whimpering but he was far beyond caring.

His cock was leaking freely into his boxers despite the fact that it was still trapped against the stairs. It was probably the only thing that was keeping him from coming.

It felt like forever before Hannibal withdrew his fingers. There was a second of empty nothingness before the head of his cock pressed slowly into Will.

Once Hannibal was in him completely the leash was pulled again. He didn’t relent until Will was forced to leverage himself up off the stairs so he was only kneeling, his back arching towards Hannibal. He didn’t loosen his hold but began rocking in and out of Will. Will’s shoulders were bent into Hannibal and when he dropped his head back it found Hannibal’s shoulder and bounced with every thrust.

Hannibal was muttering something in a tone so soft Will might have missed it if it weren’t for the fluttering of his lips in Will’s hair.

When Hannibal’s hips began losing their rhythm the hand not wrapped with the leash came around and dove into Will’s shorts. Three quick tugs and Will was coming. His body tried to bend and collapse in several different directions but Hannibal kept him upright as he finished, all rhythm gone as he fucked into Will chasing after his own release.

As they came down Hannibal dropped the leash but his hand, the one that was definitely covered in Will’s come moved to his chest to hold him secure. Will was grateful enough, he would have certainly collapsed forward onto the stairs again, he ignored the cooling trail of come on his chest.

They remained like that until their breathing regulated and the sweat cooled.

“Now, I believe we both need a shower,” Hannibal said as he pulled away and unwound the leash from Will’s wrists.

Will groaned and pulled his arms around, rubbing at the red mark. “I’m never going to be able to use that leash again,” He complained climbing onto his feet, his knees protested.

Out of the corner of his eye Will saw Hannibal flash a smile. “That is exactly why you’ll keep using it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the porn was actually meant to be something sweet when they went to bed but the story had other plans...
> 
> As always comments make my heart sing!

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on tumblr. Prompts and requests are almost always open.](https://tumbleweed-run.tumblr.com)


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